Snow!

We got a dusting of snow yesterday. The kids went out to play first thing in the morning. The dog kept jumping up and snapping at the large snowflakes. Today, it's been coming down all morning. The kittens have been watching it in rapt attention. Now I have one in my lap as I type this post. I hope the snowfall continues so that school is cancelled and we can have a nice long Thanksgiving break at home.

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Count My Blessings

Count My Blessings is Salina Yoon's first picture book. A little bear counts his blessings: one house, two parents, three friends ...

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I met Salina through the Blueboards. I'd been working on a concept book that had received good rejections and I was stumped. Knowing Salina's background, I asked whether she'd take a look. Not only did she take a look, she advised me how to make it marketable. I followed her lead until it was pitch perfect to both our ears. And she sent me a book! Count My Blessings.

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Shouldn't I be thanking her? Inside the book were several notes including: Where's my bread? Apparently the bread I'd promised had gone phantom on me. Did the postman eat it? The fungus? Uh-oh. But this story has a happy ending. The bread arrived. I've now achieved the status of Ma Ingalls since Salina doesn't like to cook (even in a crock pot).

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The kids and I read Salina's book immediately and Salina shared the genesis of this book. She was already creating novelty books at the time, many that I'm sure your own children have grown to love (check them out at her website), but she was a mother of a toddler at the time: "I wanted a book that was created JUST for him, and JUST from mom."

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I wrote to her about the pictures, which ones were our favorites. She wrote back: "My mom (the grandma in the book) is a true quilter. She's made me at least a dozen quilts, from crib sized quilts to king sized quilts! From quilted bags to quilted teddy bears .... And my dad is actually a watch repairman, but loves using his hands. All the toys in the book are from Max's things. Oh... and those stuffed animals ... Max insisted on dragging them to bed, and drag them back downstairs every morning for years! My family truly inspired this book."

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My kids understand this. All my early stories (and even now) published in magazines are our family stories, doing the laundry, cooking, picking berries, etc. They are keepsakes. Salina and I talked about our kids and what an inspiration they are. She wrote: "Max and Mason are now in Kindergarten and 1st grade. They've now outgrown my books for little ones. But they absolutely continue to inspire me! In fact, Max's favorite hobby is to create books of his own with me! He has a drafting table right in my studio."

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Lucky kids! Thank you for sharing your beautiful book and your family so generously with us, Salina. Folks, watch out for more books from Salina in the near future -- she's as busy as can be!

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May you all have a happy Thanksgiving. Count your blessings.

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On Love and Loss

Earlier this week, we had to put our oldest cat down. It was probably the worst time ever, since I was recovering from complications from a lumbar puncture. But that's a separate story. Well, is there ever a good time to break a bone when you're a 17-year-old cat? I knew something like this was bound to happen. He was old. He was frail. But I was completely unprepared, emotionally and physically. He spent a fair bit of time in bed with me and even though he was bony and not very soft, it was endearing to have him close and purring. Two old souls.

I got him at a time when I was hurting emotionally -- my husband (then boyfriend) and I had broken up because we were in a long-distance relationship and he had taken a job in Belgium and I felt he was moving in the wrong direction. I loved him so very much and wanted him in the same country. The same state would've been better. So I ended the relationship, and got this kitten instead. Eight months later, I was still miserable, as well as him (the boyfriend, not the kitten), so we decided to make concrete plans to physically be together. We got married and the rest is history. Oh, we were so young and so stupid, putting our careers above our love. Now I tell young people that love is more important, to not sacrifice it.

Moje was a great cat. A feisty little thing. Adventurous. When I finished my PhD I couldn't bear to be parted with him, so he came to Belgium with us for my postdoc at the Max Planck Institute in Germany. He's been well-travelled. He's been everywhere I've been and a great companion. I've missed him terribly when my husband I got married and went on our honeymoon. Luckily, our hosts had just gotten a kitten and I got to play with it.

Here's a photo of him when he was five years old and still not quite happy about getting the black cat. I was pregnant with our first baby at the time. But they became great friends after the baby was born and I was busy. She misses him the most now and follows me around quite a bit.


Then the babies came. He didn't like them at the beginning either -- but he was curious and wanted to be in the middle of everything.

He was the best babysitter ever, putting the kids to sleep.

He endured being treated like a stuffed animal.

He checked the homework routinely so that I wouldn't have to.


He taught both my kids to read.

In his later years, we added a puppy and two kittens. He tolerated them. But he was always top cat. He spent much of his time curled up, sleeping, but even so, he had his daily heebie-jeebies. He still nipped my toes and demanded to be picked up. I always did, no matter what I was doing.

Moje loved a good time and enjoyed Christmas and being part of the fun.

We miss you Moje. I am sure you are enjoying kitty heaven, chasing angel toes and sitting in all the available laps.

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High Mass

Today we had the opportunity to attend High Mass at the Church of the North American Martyrs in Ballard. I cannot even express how amazing and wonderful it was. The Altar was magnificent with our eyes naturally drawn to the crucifix that was mounted on what I think was a malachite slab, backlit. Six candles were already lit. Someone was praying the rosary and we joined in. The atmosphere was intensely devotional and prayerful.

The entire service was in Latin and the congregation responded minimally. One could read in the little booklets that were printed, and although we were requested to return them, I confess I took one home to study, the Latin and English, printed side by side. I do know a little bit of Latin, since I used to sing in Concert Choir and many of the pieces we sung were by Bach and Verdi and Mozart and specifically composed for the Church. So I knew where we were during the liturgy. I love the Kyrie and the Sanctus, for I am a sinner and I cannot help but ask for mercy, and the Lord is Holy!

If you want to see a video clip and photos go here. The biggest difference is that the priest faces the Altar because he is leading the flock to Calvary. This is a much more sacrificial tone to the whole liturgy. The priest and altar servers move in a perfectly choreographed manner. We take communion by kneeling and on the tongue. There is something very different -- you are being fed the Lamb of God. Again, I cannot quite express how I feel. But I loved it and it evoked some very deep down memories that I didn't even know I had of going to the Cathedral as a child. We shall definitely go again. I think it is important to have exposure to this rich and traditional service as well as the vernacular.

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Almost All Hallow's Eve

These are our pumpkins for this year. We have the perfect Halloween cat of course. I didn't grow up with this tradition -- mine was strictly a religious one -- remembering the dead. For Catholics, All Saints Day is a Holy Day so we shall be going to Mass Monday night. It really is lovely to remember the greats -- we have our favorite Saints. What great role models. Ignatious Press has made some excellent biopics and we've been watching them periodically. The Saints struggle just like everybody else with temptations. They give in. But they pick themselves up and try again to live holy lives.

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I often think of my mother. She was a saint too. Nobody knows of all the sacrifices she made to raise us. Nobody will sing her praises. There is no glory in yelling after children who do not listen, who give you grief. But she took such pleasure in feeding us whatever little food we had, in fattening us up, in singing to us, reading to us, in sewing us clothes. One of my greatest pleasures was to lay my head upon her lap, or to tell her I had a stomach ache and stay home from school and have a free day to read. She let us. We didn't do it often, my sister and I.

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We have no grave to visit. Only stories. Memories. Pictures. But she is surely in the company of Jesus and Mary and all the Saints and angels of heaven.

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In our secular culture, everything must be celebrated by stripping the holy out of the holiday. Now Halloween is about pumpkins and candy. Forget about the beloved dead. I hope you will light a candle for the people you remember and love and miss who have died. Do it for them. God bless you and God bless them.

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Don't be Buffaloed

My student's story, Cowgirl Morning, not only debuted in Cricket, it made the cover! Isn't it stunning? I must get a copy of it this weekend. Luckily, my local Borders carries the magazine. So after my daughter's soccer game, we shall make a stop. By the way, their team is doing awesome in the playoffs! Go Colorblind Purple Pumas! (Long story).

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Congratulations to Bryn Fleming!

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Teaching is such a joy for me. And not just because of successes like these. Every student has a deep desire to share stories and these are stories that only they can write. They are self-selected population who come through ICL -- from grandmothers to high school students. Some have a great deal of experience, others not so. But the journey they begin here, the tools they learn, will last them for their writing life. It's lovely to take a part in making dreams come true.

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Cuddles

The dog loves the kittens ... and they love to cuddle up with her.


Down-time. As you can see, we are a family that loves relaxing. Nothing beats cuddling up with a cat right after school, before homework and football practice.

The 17-year-old brown cat tolerates the kittens just so he can be with us.

The 12-year-old tortie does not like to be in the middle of mayhem. She has always slept with our son and does not join all the commotion in the family room in the afternoons. Here she claims a Highlights.

Looks like these two are already beginning to look like the kitten!

Look at us lazy parents. When our kids were little, they'd join us for afternoon naps. Now they're too busy running amok with the camera.

I'm ready for the weekend. How about you?

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Reading

"We're not getting a kitten," I said, negotiating our station wagon around a bend the shape of a pretzel. "We're just going to look."

So begins Cleo: the Cat who Mended a Family by Helen Brown. Poor Helen. She's like my husband, who didn't know you don't just "look" at kittens. The writing is exquisite in this book. But I'll admit I stopped reading it for a couple of days when tragedy hits the family. I simply could not go on. My own daughter is nine. And to even imagine losing her to some freak auto-accident is a place I cannot go to and remain sane.

Now that I'm in the thick of it, I'm savoring it. There is love after loss. Even laughter. My family thinks I'm bonkers sitting in a corner cackling to myself as I read this book. I can't help but think of the half finished stories of my own first cat. I got him at a tumultuous time in my life ... he's still with us (17 years old), still demanding our attention, still behaving like an Indian husband. Ah, yes, he deserves his own book. Someday.

I was a bit put-off by the cover saying: the next Marley and Me. Don't get me wrong. I've read it. Enjoyed it. But Cleo is nothing like Marley. For heaven's sake, don't the people who market know anything about cats and dogs? Marley is a dog. And some of us are right offended by the comparison. Puh-leeeese.

So, cat lovers ... get this book. Cleo will burrow into your own heart as have other cats. Perhaps it will jog some of your own cherished kitten and cat memories. Pen them. Write a tribute.

I love the title chapter and subheadings. Here's a sampling:

Choice ~ A cat chooses its owner, not the other way around.

A Name ~ There's only one correct name for a cat -- Your Majesty.

Loss ~ Unlike humans, cats are accustomed to loss.

The Intruder ~ A cat doesn't go where it's invited. It appears where its needed.

Trust ~ A cat is always in the right place at exactly the right time.

I could go on and on, but you simply must get the book, curl up with your own feline and enjoy this book for yourself.

Ciao meow.

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ps: I wish the owners of Marley and other dogs and their owners only well. After all, we also have a lovable doggy in the house. But cats are cats and dogs are dogs, and the two shall not compare. Cats rule!

Reading

What a rollicking good read this was. Scumble is the companion book to Savvy.

Ledger Kale's savvy busts things apart. You'll have to read the book to know how he learns to control it, with his cousins giving him lessons. Ingrid Law can spin a tall tale, but her savvy has got to be picking the best names for her characters: Fedora, Rocket, Marisol, and who can forget Mibs?

Here's our cat Savvy (the kid who named her is herself named after a book character). I like this picture even though it's fuzzy because she looks like she's glowing, kind of like Rocket in Scumble.

Other books that I enjoyed:

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North of Beautiful by Justina Chen Headley -- this one is not just about a girl struggling with a port-wine stain. It had so many layers. I loved all the mapping metaphors used throughout. I especially enjoyed the family relationships, the unexpected plot twists. It's beautifully written. My only criticism is that the characters often started their conversations with: "God." This might be realistic, but it grated on my eyes and ears. Why? If characters start every sentence with the f* word, would we use it as writers?

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Writing a Book that makes a Difference by Philip Gerard -- My pet projects are all important books. I want to make a difference in this world. Why else would I write? Oh, yes, I write for money and experience, but ultimately it's to bring a voice to the voiceless. Make a difference.

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Quit Your Day Job: How to Sleep Late, Do What You Enjoy, and Make a Ton of Money as a Writer by Jim Denney -- Isn't that the greatest title? I saw it on Kristi Holl's blog. And I've made some changes to my writing life and boy golly, I'm going to be a career novelist.

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After a month of being neurotic, I've finally settled down to my novel revision. Happy reading and writing, folks.

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Blessing of the Pets

It was a gorgeous day for the blessing of the pets at Eastside Catholic. We brought our dog and the two new kittens. The older cats have already had their blessings, many times over.

Here's my son, trying to get the kittens out of the bag. I put a stop to that.

Father Bill blessing our dog. She barked, "AMEN!"

After we got home, I took a nap with one of the kittens. It's been a rough two weeks for me with intractable migraines ... these furry, purry pets bring such comfort and joy. God's creatures are marvelous ... and we are one of them as well.

I wanted to leave you with this Prayer of St. Francis, sung by Westminster Abbey Choir.

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Make me a channel of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me bring your love.

Where there is injury, Your pardon, Lord.

And where there's doubt, true faith in You.

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Make me a channel of your peace.

Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope.

Where there is darkness, only light.

And where there's sadness, ever joy.

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O Master, grant that I may never seek.

So much to be consoled as to console.

To be understood as to understand.

To be loved as to love with all my soul.

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Make me a channel of your peace.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.

In giving of ourselves that we receive.

And in dying that we're born to eternal life.

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